Ch'en stared blankly into the horizon, as if gazing at something far—far beyond her reach. A million miles or a million kilometers, it didn't matter what the specific distance was, it was something her grasp could never reach through. Amongst the broken rubble of Lungmen that spanned a circular radius of hundreds of meters, the LGD Superintendent for once was at a loss of words.
The heat of battle was one hell of a motivator, letting her force any words or stupor she had back down. Nothing hampered her in this state, and the dragon lady believed it to be the same for practically everybody else who was a trained warrior.
A breeze went across Lungmen, the activity of multiple LGD relief branches making way across the city, attempting to find people that were crushed under the rubble. Ch'en didn't know if everybody had been evacuated, considering skyscrapers were high enough where the evacuation message could not have fully reached, or where people took too much time to get out of.
However, Mahoraga lifted those skyscrapers like nothing, and were tossing them towards the... whoever the black cloaked people were. It was an astonishing sight, and Ch'en felt like Lungmen was going to be razed to the ground the moment she laid eyes on it.
How did that even happen? Weren't skyscrapers designed to not be able to topple over, they were designed to collapse in themselves so they don't create a domino effect with other skyscrapers. By all means, picking the skyscrapers was an impossible feat by physics standards.
...On the topic of those black cloaked people, they were nowhere to be seen anymore. After the opening of that black sphere that appeared in the middle, and the subsequent burst of it—they had completely vanished from all view. Ch'en could only make assumptions of who they were, but only one echoed clearly.
Shaking her head, Ch'en sighed, breaking her gaze from the distance. The more she thought of that man, the more bitter she became. The LGD Superintendent had to admit to herself, she never understood him, not even a single hint of his motivations nor passions. Not through those soulless eyes of his, lacking any will to reside in this world.
Maybe that was why he had been so readily able to summon that monster, to let it loose upon Lungmen. Ch'en didn't know why he had summoned it in the first place, but she could only assume that something had happened when he went to clear out the criminal gathering.
The more she thought of it, the more she felt insignificant. There was nothing the woman could do to change his mind, could she? Was he even going to listen to a word she said? Maybe it was because he believed in the inadequacy of the LGD, maybe that was why he had decided to go to deal with the Blood Hounds alone.
Maybe that was why he left the city, seeing it as nothing but a danger to his livelihood.
Her hand moved upwards to pinch the bridge of her nose, exhaustion creeping into herself. Ch'en hadn't had a good run when fighting Mahoraga, and neither did she wish to ever see its blasted grin ever again. The mocking energy that came out of it, the sheer sadistry it exuded... honestly, she was sure she'd rather face down Ursus' rumored Royal Guards than that thing.
Replication of techniques, the capability of rendering anything useless against it. Blades were digging deep into its skin one time, and then they left nothing but a scratch. She used Chi Xiao's first technique against it, and it had thrown it back at her. Ch'en had to wonder how exactly Megumi was able to destroy it...
Maybe that purple flames, exactly like the one from the outskirts, had completely done it in. She wasn't sure how that was possible, considering the previous blast wasn't that powerful... but maybe because Megumi had somehow made it stronger.
Too many questions, too little answers. Frustration would keep building up the more she thought about it.
"Ch'en sir!"
An LGD officer spoke up from behind Ch'en, making her turn to them with a tired gaze, "yes...? What is it?" There wasn't a need for formality or professionalism in her voice. Today's events were such a clusterfuck that she didn't have the mood or energy to deal with it.
They coughed into their fists, or rather, they would have coughed into their fists if it weren't for their black helmet. "There's a crowd of journalists and news reporters gathered at the—"
"Tell them to fuck off!" Ch'en barked out, "we don't have time to deal with them, the LGD is already looking through the clearing if there are any survivors left, the last thing we need is a bunch of idiots running around a hazard zone!"
"Y-yes!" The LGD was thrown aback by her sudden burst of anger, but immediately gave the woman a small salute before running off. "I'll get a team to clear them out, or hold them back!" They vanished from sight not soon after.
Ch'en let out a long and drawn out sigh, before wiping down her face vertically with her hand. There was something else she needed to do.
***
"Arturia Giallo," Ch'en crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. The perpetually smug woman smiling at her gave the dragon lady no reason to be lax at all, and considering what she had done not too long ago... "Why were you with Fushiguro Megumi?"
"Me? Oh my, where should I begin?" Arturia placed a finger under her lip, answering the question with a casual gait. "He merely asked for my help, so I obliged," she spoke as if it were the most obvious answer possible.
"What...?" Ch'en felt her eye twitch, why would he even ask for help from this psychotic woman? The last time she remembered, the Sankta was the one who caused the whole mess with Tiger Funeral. "Don't bullshit me."
"Mmh, it's true," Arturia shrugged from her chair while crossing her legs. "You should have seen the look upon his face, one of both conviction and desperation... eyes that sought one thing from me..."
'...The hell is she talking about,' Ch'en half-listened to her ramblings, and it only served to irritate herself more. From what the Superintendent could tell from her words, the black haired man had used her Arts to gain enough strength to incinerate the beast... but why did Arturia imply something else with her words...?
"So upon his dire time of need, when the hour of the performance was nigh, what else could I do but feed his daring passion?" Arturia closed her eyes, lips thinned, but smiling slightly higher. "And share my passion with his did I... and thus a great heat—"
"Enough of that!" Ch'en slammed the table, uncaring if this woman was somebody protected by Werner von Hochberg, "you caused the mess with Fushiguro Megumi back then, why else would he seek your help?!" The black haired man hadn't even thought of telling her that he was going to leave Lungmen...
...No, instead, he flaked, leaving without even a single notice.
"You seem quite disturbed," Arturia leaned in from her position, placing her elbows on the table and interlocking her fingers. Her eyes peered into the dragon lady as if they understood everything, all the while her chin was placed upon her interlocked fingers. "Is that how you truly feel, Ch'en Hui-chieh? The question is if you will act upon it."
Ch'en felt her anger rising to boiling point, leaning in to meet the gaze of Arturia—hand still pressed against the table and leaning over. It was as if the Sankta could see something in the dragon lady that Ch'en, herself, didn't know.
"How interesting," Arturia mused, fiddling her fingers slightly, "shall I grant you one piece of advice?" The woman tilted her head, "my envoy will arrive soon, so why not hear it before I inevitably depart?"
"...Tch," Ch'en narrowed her eyes even further, "the hell is it, then?" If the envoy arrived, then the Superintendent would practically be forced to give Arturia away to them. If not, the damned political disaster bullshit would be thrown her way as implied by the Sankta's position.
Arturia's mouth slowly opened, her chin slightly turning upwards before she spoke. The words flowed out her mouth like music notes, pervading every inch of the room. They reached outwards, as if extending toward Ch'en's ears...
The dragon lady upon hearing them, widened her eyes, a sense of shock, disbelief, and utter defeat taking her over.
'That...' Ch'en felt her eyes fall into a daze, the revelation painting a clear picture in her mind.
"So... how will your soul respond, Ch'en Hui-chieh?" Arturia asked, eyes closing together to form two crescent moons. The same smile was plastered upon her face, but one filled with mirth brimming at its core.
***
Lin stared down at her palm, her hands vividly shaking, before she clenched her fist and lowered it. She heaved a deep breath, thinking over the many pieces of advice and wisdom that her father had given her. The old man wanted her to become his successor, and she was all the willing to oblige.
However, the mouse lady had to remind herself that she needed to clear herself of her own inadequacies before taking upon the mantle. Somebody who had to rule the underworld as her father once did—benevolently and fairly—needed a lot of time to be conditioned to do so. Lin Yuhsia was no exception, despite how many of her followers told and preached that she was a genius.
However, what was a genius to a monster?
Lin reached to her cheek, and pressed against it. There was a slight pain, and the woman knew why. When that being... Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga—a title only belonging to that of a deity—had so easily shattered her barrier. At first, there were large cracks that appeared on it, but it was superficial at worst.
However, the second time, even after she had recovered and enhanced it, the Divine General had broken it; shattering a hole that nearly left her exposed for a blow. Lin took a deep breath during that time, before recuperating and developing her next plan. Next time, she would push her barrier to its absolute limit.
...The third time, it had been pulverized, a powerful yet effortless backhand leaving a bruise on her cheek. It ached and stung even now, reminding the mouse lady that monsters still existed in Terra, monsters that she was wholly unprepared for. Mahoraga was one of them, perhaps being the cream of the crop when it came to those sorts of examples.
Then there came an even bigger monster—the man who had somehow, someway, defeated the beast under the sheet of black shadows. It was as if a curtain had been placed over Lungmen, obscuring all sights from seeing what happened in that spherical barrier.
All anybody knew was that the Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General Mahoraga was entrapped in a room with Fushiguro Megumi... and the latter came out alive—nay—victorious.
Lin closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, a meditative art she had taken time out of her lessons to learn. It was calming, something that let her mind stray away from the disappointment of defeat and failure. There was no use lingering on such defeats, as it would only serve to drag herself down.
"Swire," the Zalak opened her eyes before turning to glance around her. A blonde haired Feline woman was approaching her with a hesitant expression. However, Lin was still able to see the same lingering fierceness that made Swire—Swire.
"...Are you gonna tell me what the hell happened here?" Swire crossed her arms, letting out a huff. Her tail swished, a sign that Lin was able to tell was of great vexation, "Ch'en dipped on me for 'more important matters,' and Hoshi is getting treated for having her damned arms broken!" The woman didn't like being left in the dark about matters such as these.
Especially when there was a fucking hole in Lungmen of collapsed skyscrapers, and it didn't make it any better that it was one of their most commercial districts!
"Fushiguro Megumi," Lin Yuhsia replied in a slightly restrained tone. She didn't know how to feel right now, nor did she know the full picture of what had actually happened. He had decided to leave Lungmen, but from what she could assume, the black haired man decided to linger a bit longer to rid the city of the Siracusan influence.
...Well, it certainly did rid the city of their upper echelons, in such a dramatic fashion that it left an ungodly gale of destruction in its wake.
"Ugh, I know that bastard was involved in this mess!" Swire irritably waved her hands in the air, "I want to know why the hell Megumi did this shit, he's such a hardstuck person on being logical, yet he pulls something that... that vaporizes hundreds of meters of Lungmen!"
Lin sighed, feeling the cold air leave her lungs, "I don't know." Her tone was flat, arms crossing in response and turning away.
"Huh?" Swire blinked once, and then twice. She had to do a double take, two times over to hear what the mouse lady had just said. Her mind blanked out for a second, like a computer blacking out before rebooting. Fully registering the simple phrase of 'I don't know,' the tiger lady felt her tail start to swish, before it snapped into a near whip-like motion.
"What do you mean—you don't know?!" Swire covered her face with her right palm, "are you fucking with me?" All the Feline woman knew was that Megumi had knocked out Ch'en for some reason, and decided to dip out of Lungmen's pond. Why he did so? Nobody had a damn clue it seems!
"I don't know, and that's all I know," Lin dryly remarked, "there is nothing we understand about him. I'm sure Ch'en thinks the same way." She had already called for her people to help her with the mess that had been caused.
Lungmen was going to take time to recover from this, both physically and mentally.
"This dirty rat..." Swire groaned, before peering her eyes out from the opening of her fingers. "...And I wonder what the hell Chief Wei is doing right now," the Lung was most likely going to be swamped with the most horrendous piece of news in all his life.
Entire skyscrapers being toppled was something that was not easy to miss.
Lin gave a nod.
***
"Okay, what the hell happened here?" Emperor stared from the bar table, staring upwards at the TV screen playing the latest news. "What sort of Hell on Terra scenario is this?" The penguin took a sip from their cup, reaching up one of their fins to lower their shades.
"No idea, boss," Exusiai stared along with the penguin, her eyes glued completely onto the screen. "Sheesh, something like that happening in the middle of the night? I heard some shockwaves traveling through, but that kind of destruction is still honestly insane."
"We don't know what it was, either," Texas pointed out. Even though she said that, the Lupo had felt her ears rabidly twitching, as if danger were present at every angle of her body... it had only calmed down when they had moved away from it and into the bar. "But it must be very dangerous."
"I leave Lungmen for a week and this sorta thing happens," Emperor shook his head while taking a round of alcohol. "Damn... Wei's got his stuff sorted out for him, doesn't he?" The penguin almost felt bad for the man.
"Eh... do you guys think...?" Sora perked up from between Exusiai and Texas, the latter two still keeping their gaze fixated on the screen. "...It was him?" The idol was sure there was only one person capable of doing such a thing, and the burnt rubble at a certain scene practically gave it away.
They hadn't seen the full picture, considering the news had only started broadcasting such an event, and was still waiting for Lungmen's intranet to circulate photos and videos of what had happened.
"Very likely," Exusiai scratched the back of her head while letting out a whistle, "seriously, with all the events that have happened a week ago... it must have been."
"Mhm," Texas nodded.
"What're you two talking about?" Emperor glanced at the two, breaking his gaze from the TV flat screen, "somebody new that I haven't heard of?" The penguin expected as much, considering the length of time he had spent out of Lungmen. Many things could have happened during that time period, but something like this was insane.
He hadn't even caught up on the latest news, everything talking about some dragon or whatever.
"Hoo boy," Exusiai breathed out, "you've missed out on a lot of things, you know?"
"Isn't that much obvious?" Emperor felt his eyelids twitch—if he had eyelids—while setting down his cup. "Tell me, I'm patient enough to hear whatever crazy stories have been flyin' across Lungmen these days."
"Well, better brace yourself," Exusiai placed her hands on her hips, looking upwards to try to recall. "Where do I start...? Oh, right, it all started when..."
***
An endless wasteland, something that Megumi hadn't ever thought he would experience. Well, even if it wasn't an impossibility that wasn't too off the table completely, the black haired man never placed it in his bucket list.
The vastness of it was intimidating to a certain extent, especially if placed in the middle of nowhere without any path to travel. All there laid were random rock formations strewn about, placed on a landscape filled with nothing but pale and ashen sediment.
If it were an ordinary person making their merry way through such a place as this, Megumi was sure their skin would be frostbitten from the arid freezing wind. An exaggeration—yes—but the black haired man was certainly praying for a more warmer and suitable temperature.
Walking for such an extended period of time wasn't too tiring, considering Cursed Energy and Reverse Cursed Technique served to keep Sorcerers at peak conditions at all times. For Megumi though? His reserves were burnt out, even with the Binding Vow he had placed upon himself.
It was to be expected in his mind. After all, completing his Domain Expansion for the first time and executing two attacks that would normally be impossible in the normal sense. Due to their sudden use, there was nothing Megumi could do other than bide his time and wait for his wells to fill up once more.
Until his Binding Vow runs its course and he is forced to pay his due, of course. That had also been a nerve-wracking thought afflicting his mental state. 'A few more minutes before that happens, and I've only made an unknown amount of progress in my journey.' Even then, progress was a loose term for his current situation.
Megumi no longer saw the City of Lungmen behind him, and he was glad for that. Looking at it for any longer wouldn't do much for his mental state, and would only hammer in the extreme actions he had resorted to. Moving past it was all the Sorcerer could do at the moment.
The length crossed so far Megumi couldn't count, and neither could he tell where he was actually going. If the black haired man was given an option to start over, he would have definitely nabbed a map or brought a compass with him. Swallowing his mistakes and changing his plans was the next best option. He'd make sure to learn from this.
'Find a settlement, any settlement, and then find out where I am. FInd a map hopefully, and make it to the North where I had planned on going.' Although Ursus wasn't the best place to visit—considering it was this world's version of Russia. However, it was the closest location to the city of Lungmen.
Continuing to make his way through, the sound of Megumi's foot stepping on the dry and decrepit soil echoed about. The weather was still cold, having just moved away from the frigid night and heeding forth the morning sun. Pale orange lights continued to fade down onto the planet, the skies clearing themselves of clouds at the arrival of a new celestial object.
The twin moons were still able to be viewed, but Megumi knew they would eventually be overpowered by the incandescent sun. It was fitting for an object that could merely reflect the light of such a star, something the Ten Shadows user found slightly amusing.
'Reflecting the sun's rays... a mere reflection huh?' The black haired man wiped his forehead, the burnt and charred skin no longer discomforting his hand on contact. 'Fitting.' Despite the guilt he felt from abandoning Lungmen with abrasive steps, the black haired man found it relieving that he had left.
No political curveballs being thrown towards him, no human problems afflicting him, and no need to worry about crazy women who were after his head. Yes, the last part was specific on purpose, and Megumi was throwing all the shade he could against a certain white haired Lupo.
Megumi wasn't sure if he were ever going to set foot on Lungmen again, but at the back of his mind—there was an intrinsic sense of inevitability developing. He would definitely have to face them again someday, and the black haired man wasn't sure of what implications it would bring.
Delving upon that matter was an uncomfortable thing for him, despite the feeling of utter release and freedom from having stepped foot outside of the city.
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit Megumi, making him reeling forward and retching. "Ugh!" His knees shook, a further burning sensation in his chest that wrought into existence, as if it wished to melt his organs. "The Binding Vow... of course."
Megumi winced, letting his knees touch the floor as he continued to pant. The feeling started to die down like an ember going out, but still lingered. Huffing out a breath, he heaved upwards and stood back up in a straight posture.
His black haori continued to flutter in the wind, sand and dust blowing against his body. Having recovered, Megumi recovered his half-lidded eyes with a balled fist, pointing his back hand towards the wind.
Despite having no clear direction, Megumi steeled his nerves and continued to walk forward. It didn't matter if his reserves were now cut in half, he would make due with it. Especially with the new option granted to him by the fruits of his efforts and labor.
***
The road continued to remain stagnant, the same old sight Megumi was finding himself accustomed to. It was starting to get irritating, and impatience built up along with that feeling. Deciding to make due with his reserves, Megumi slightly alleviated this problem by summoning Nue.
The best he could do was summon an elephant sized Nue, and lay on its back to conserve as much Cursed Energy as possible. Despite it being cut in half, his output and refinement still remained the same.
That meant he couldn't use Shikigamis such as Totalities, since they expended a large amount of Cursed Energy to summon. However, maintaining their existence in the world wasn't too straining—it still was far higher than what Nue took from him.
At this rate, he could fly across the sky, unheeded by either land formations and unbothered by slow progress. The blowing of the wind signified this, a serene gale passing through his face calmly. Along with that, the orange light of the sun had settled into an accompanying yellow light to the morning dew. The sky was once more a light blue.
It was a nice sight, a good distraction to not let his mind occupy negative thoughts. Megumi was finding it easier to do so, like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders and cleared his brain of any clouds. The feeling kept persisting, and so did his mind always come back to it.
"Is it because I tamed it...?" Megumi spoke aloud to himself, letting his eyes continue to wander. He sat with a bent posture upon Nue's back, his right knee propping up his right arm. "Forget it, I need to focus on where I'm at."
Taking a glance over Nue to stare at the ground, it was as he had expected. Although there were minute changes to the detail of the landscape, it was the exact same sight he had borne witness to. At what point was he going to see something new? Or even see any signs of human life?
Megumi had completely lost track of time, only recalling that he decided to leave during the night. Seeing how the criminal gathering back then started when the night settled in, he could assume it to be 10:00 P.M., which then shifted to 12:00 A.M. the most—by the time he had tamed Mahoraga.
"Tch, still nothing?" Megumi tapped his leg with his finger, still feeling the exhaustion of having his reserves cut in half. It wouldn't be taking this long if he had been moving at the speed he was with Nue, and his previous progress. But right now, the black haired man was sure he wasn't headed to Ursus at the current moment.
His sense of direction between South and North was completely screwed. In fact, Megumi wasn't sure if he was going East or West either.
"...Roll with it, as long as I encounter civilization," dryly talking to himself, Megumi bit his lip and laid down on Nue. 'I hope I don't run into a Catastrophe, it would be a disaster.' Especially for his Shikigami, considering how the storm would completely blow them away into nothing but bloodied bits.
While he was confident in his abilities of using Falling Blossom Emotion to deflect the Originium shards throwing up a calamitous fit (for ten seconds at best), Megumi was in no state to execute it either. The Catastrophe information came to him when he visited a library during the one week downtime, digging his nose into multiple books.
Many included analyzing the colored maps and important landmarks along with reading history books helped him set up the direction which he wanted to go. Megumi hadn't thought of leaving Lungmen during that time, but there were still implicit suggestions developing within.
If the Sorcerer had a little bit more time to stay in Lungmen, he could have possibly learnt more about Terra, but all that was left for him was breadcrumbs about this world. Then again, those breadcrumbs should be enough for at least a decent understanding of different countries.
But of course, Fushiguro Megumi had actually chosen to leave.
Having to cure Ch'en to get a leverage on Wei Yenwu was the straw that broke the camel's back, though, seeing that the aftermath of such a thing would not be pretty. In fact, the Chief Executive already gave him enough reason to leave Lungmen entirely; and that was because he looked to be somebody who would do anything for his city.
If it were a slight misjudgement, then Megumi was willing to admit he was wrong about the man. But as it stands, the Ten Shadows user bore zero trust towards him.
Such a notion was further reflected when those black raincoats had jumped him. It was as if they were bathed in the shadows, each move cold and calculated to perfection. Their claws were sharp, far shaper than the other people he had encountered in this world—shown through their explicit skill.
Every lethal move they made, it landed on him, and so did those two blades that nearly took his life. In fact, Megumi was still confused how he hadn't died during that time. If it had been even a millimeter off course, blackened steel would have carved the heart out of his own body.
'If it were Gojo-sensei, he would have cleared them out easily,' Megumi grumbled to himself, wondering how the Strongest Sorcerer would handle them. Imagining how Gojo Satoru would warp across the battlefield and throw his casual remarks was usually an annoying sight... but man did the Ten Shadows user wish for his teacher to act that way against those bastards.
The soft and bristled fur of Nue continued to press against his body as he laid back for rest. Slowly, Megumi moved his hands to place them behind his head. Falling asleep for a quick nap didn't sound like too bad of an idea, especially under the caress of the wind.
Just as those thoughts came to him did Megumi's mind blur, letting the excess chemicals in his brain start to flush itself out of his system. Having spent an entire week training, being active, and then an entire night attempting to stay alive... Only then did the Sorcerer feel immense exhaustion.
Forget about Reverse Cursed Technique, his reserves were too low, and he didn't think it would do much to help his mental state.
The serene embrace of sleep eventually cradled his body under the gaze of the sun. While the wings of Nue continued to flap a continuous and harsh melody, so did the whispers of the southern zephyr sing the Sorcerer to sleep.
A singular phrase echoed in the solitude of his mind, one that he remembered oh so vividly.
"Let fate toy with you, become a clown, and then die."
Megumi could smile, knowing that notion had been severed.
***
Sleep, what a beauty this concept was. The rest needed after a long day of work, being blessed by the comforting embrace that was unconsciousness. Dreams, boundless in their possibilities, and only limited to what the mind could imagine. Such as how dreams inspired people, so could it also be the inspiration for art.
Jujutsu Sorcery could be considered a sort of art, seeing how it was treated back in the Heian Era. The pinnacle of Japan's artistry, especially poetry and literature. Ironically enough, it was also the moment that Sorcerers had decided to ditch chants in order to commit to the art of subtraction.
Yet an era dedicated to poetry and literature abandoning chants made many skeptics and Jujutsu historians raise an eyebrow.
To Fushiguro Megumi, he didn't care much. The black haired man just needed to learn this subject for his history class, and then score a good mark on a test or quiz. All assignments had been completed, and so had all of his homework.
There was no need to slack around—
"Yo! Megumi-chan!"
—He was going to slack around, wasn't he?
"What is it, Gojo-sensei?" Megumi snapped his history book shut, lifting it up with his hand before turning to his apartment complex's door. This room was provided to him by the white haired man, something both he and his sister were grateful for.
It was too bad Tsumiki was... nevermind.
"There's something I need to tell you," the white haired man placed his elbow on the door frame, leaning on it with great swagger. "It pertains to your very love life itself! A serious matter that the both of us have to take—!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Megumi deadpanned, a look of 'I don't want to be here' being so graciously present. "If you have something as unserious as that to tell me, then I don't need to hear it." He was only in highschool anyways, there was no need to worry about his lovelife at the current moment.
Such as cherry blossoms falling in spring, Megumi believed that romance should only blossom when the time was right.
...And he didn't know what was the right time, either.
"Eh~?!" Gojo exaggeratedly fell on the door frame, a devastated look plastered upon his visage. It was as if his entire world had crumbled to nothing but fine dust, "b-but Megumi-chan...!" His blue eyes blurred, as if tears were forming in them.
"You... wait, you're not referring to yourself, are you?" Megumi looked at him with wide eyes, a sense of realization taking in. Was this what Gojo's joke was about?!
"...Wait, what?!" Gojo stood back up like a jolting current had passed by his body, taking his sunglasses off to look at Megumi. "Why are you the one thinking of something as stupid as that?! That was supposed to be my thing!" He pointed an accusatory finger towards the black haired man.
"...Huh?" Megumi stared at him blankly, "then...then what is this entire thing about...?" The black haired man felt his lower eyelid twitch, glaring at the other Sorcerer. Now, it wasn't healthy for him to get angry or stressed over matters like this... but the former feeling was definitely persisting at the moment.
"Oh nah, this guy has gone insane," Gojo sighed while shaking his head. "Megumi-chan, you can't just ask some poor and vulnerable man like me to become the love of your life—!"
"That's enough!" Megumi yelled out towards him, throwing his textbook. The object soared through the air, its kinetic energy building up from being thrown by a Sorcerer in training, even glowing with a flaming blue aura.
Strangely enough, Gojo Satoru had let the object pass through his Neutral Limitless. As a result, the object impacted his forehead, making him reel his head back a good distance; a faux shocked expression adorning his face.
"Gah!" Gojo gripped the door frame, as if it were the only support holding up from falling down and meeting the capriciously decorated floor. No, seriously, the apartment complex's floor was really a weirdly decorated place from what the white haired man observed from his Six Eyes—
—He shifted in position, snapping back into a normal posture while rubbing his forehead, "well, that could've gone better." Gojo thought aloud, as if in some sort of reminiscent thought. "If you're so curious about what I actually wanted to say..." he drew out his voice.
"...Just get on with it," Megumi sighed, leaning back on his chair. The object bent backwards, the weight of his body acting upon it the further he slumped down. "You usually disguise what you want to say with weird stuff like what happened previously. I'm used to it now."
"Oh wow, don't we have an analytical kid here?" Gojo jokingly replied, cupping his chin. "Well, to get to more serious matters... I'd like to point out how you've been really enjoying using Cursed Tools recently. They even fit your fighting style too, considering your physical condition is... not the best compared to Sorcerers."
"Go on...?" Megumi didn't comment much on what his mentor had said. His physical strength was indeed lacking, and he had attempted to remedy such a thing with Cursed Tools given to him by Jujutsu Tech.
"Cursed Tools aren't a crutch, despite what some idiots might believe," Gojo shrugged, "and because your... nevermind," he was about to mention the child's father, but immediately relented. "From what I was saying before, you wanna sign up for a training program? They got a few people who could teach you a few neat tricks with weapons."
"I wouldn't mind," Megumi placed a hand over the backrest of his chair, resting his chin on it. "But is that all there is to it? Just another addition to my training regimen?" The black haired man wondered why this warranted so much importance, his usual days were mostly free after all.
"Oh, right!" Gojo placed a fist on his palm, "I also gotta teach you a little thing about how Cursed Tools are made in the first place. Let's start at the bottom, Megumi-chan, how are they most commonly created amongst Sorcerers?" He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and finding a chair of his own.
"By imbuing Cursed Energy into it—you told me this before—when a Sorcerer imbues enough Cursed Energy, and for an allotted amount of time; a Cursed Tool will automatically form." Albeit, Megumi recalled a weak Sorcerer would only form a Low-Grade Cursed Tool at best.
"Mhm! Bingo~!" Gojo snapped his fingers, "and then there's also many other factors that could come to it, such as materials it is made of and what the specific Cursed Technique is imbued. There are many techniques that come to creating Cursed Tools in the first place, too."
"Blacksmithing?" Megumi tried to draw the best example he could think of, and threw it towards Gojo.
"Yeah, a lot of Cursed Tool manufacturers are blacksmiths," Gojo placed his hands behind his head, crossing his heads and leaning back in a relaxed way. "But we don't care about that~! What we care about is how you will ingrain your Cursed Techniques in a Cursed Tool!"
"I'm capable of that?" Megumi raised an eyebrow, not believing the white haired man's words. He was an amateur at best, with the current level he was at—how would he even imbue a Cursed Technique as complex as Ten Shadows onto a Cursed Tool in the first place?!
"If—you get skilled enough," Gojo placed a finger pointing upwards in front of Megumi, his azure eyes gazing into Megumi's abyssal ones. "Then we could see what sort of crazy Cursed Tools you could make. Hell, you don't even gotta smith weapons, we could just give you a few to use and then—voila! A Cursed Tool imbued with Ten Shadows, whaddya think?"
"...I'm listening," Megumi dryly replied, but interest was definitely brimming within. "What weapon will it be?"
"What do you want?" Gojo turned to lean back on his chair once more.
"Something mobile, medium in length, maybe a short sword?" Megumi replied.
"I remembered there was a short sword in Jujutsu Tech's little armory," Gojo placed a checked finger under his chin. "It was jet-black in shape too, and it could fit perfectly for you, actually!" The white haired man grinned, a devious one from what anybody could tell.
"...Gojo-sensei, do we have permission?" Megumi could already tell what he was implying, and it was that they were going to waltz in and nab it straight from its storage.
"Hm? Am I not 'permission' enough?" Gojo cheekily replied, pointing to himself and laughing. His sunglasses slightly lowered along with his bout of humor.
"Sure," Megumi rolled his eyes, already knowing there was nothing he could do about it. Actually, what would he even want to do about it? He was benefiting from this sort of thing after all. "One more thing—wouldn't it take a long time for me to imbue my Cursed Technique in the Cursed Tool?"
"Eh, it would be a long-term thing you gotta invest in," Gojo shrugged without much thought, "but really, think about it: you just gotta imbue this Cursed Tool with your Cursed Energy channeled through your Cursed Technique for at least a minute everyday—and then BOOM! A Cursed Tool is born!"
"That easy?" Megumi raised an eyebrow.
"Very easy, yeah, it just takes a bit of time to develop." Gojo whistled out while glancing at something else in the room.
"...How long exactly?" Megumi felt his fingers twitch, seeing his teacher glancing at something else. What did he find so interesting that he wasn't putting much attention to this conversation...? Oh, Megumi certainly knew.
"Ehe~, like a year or two? For it to become at least really effective?" Gojo shrugged.
"What the hell?" Megumi wondered if that would even be worth it. "Won't the Cursed Tool just break in the process? It's some random sword, isn't it?"
"It is some random sword, I gotta admit," Gojo breathed out with a slightly admitting tone. "But—but—but!" He raised a hand before Megumi could offer a rebuttal, "the amount of time is based on your Cursed Energy refinement and many other factors that it was a: it-would-take-so-much-out-of-our-time-today if we talked about it."
Megumi sighed, processing the words. In a single second, he had made up his mind, "fine, I'll invest some time into what you said. I do enjoy using Cursed Tools over fists, after all."
"Good!" Gojo clapped his hands in enthusiasm, "let's get started then!"
***
Megumi's eyes shot open, meeting the blue sky of Terra once more. His gaze bore up the great distance, meeting the great white and fluffy clouds that littered up top—even if fogged a bit by the billowing dust.
His eyes eventually softened, letting themselves fall to a half-lidded-ness. Megumi's muscles began being supplied with blood and oxygen, the major substances needed to make them active and powerful. Just behind Cursed Energy, too.
Sitting upwards with a single moment, the black haired man noted how fast Nue had been flying for the entire duration. The blowing of the wind signified it was somewhere up to speeds rivaling that of a jet, and it had been going at this standard speed... for what? A good few hours now?
Megumi felt his reserves had been filled up, but a roof covering the half-way point was very prominent. It was a weird feeling, like a well having something like an obstruction that separated the rising water from ever reaching past where it had been placed.
Glancing around, the black haired man noticed how there were still no signs of civilization—hold on, did he even give proper commands to Nue? Scraping through his mind while looking down dazedly, all Megumi remembered was telling it to keep flying forward.
...Shit, did he overshoot a city or country?
Well, no use crying over spilt milk. All Megumi could do was grab a towel and clean up the little mess he had made, and see where else he would end up. Glancing to his left, Megumi noticed slight fog building up, and the sight of the from where he was looking at.
Mentally telling Nue to make a right turn to avoid the sea, Megumi wondered just how long he had fallen unconscious for. Looking upwards, the sun looked like it was in its afternoon phase, and considering the speed Nue had been moving at—
—Would you look at that? Megumi was finally spotting signs of buildings in the distance. He didn't have much of a reaction, only the tension in his chest and worries about where he would end up leaving. The black haired man motioned for Nue to fly downwards with a tap of his finger, not wanting any residents to see the Shikigami.
After such a long way of traveling, Fushiguro Megumi grabbed onto the back of Nue, enhancing his body with Cursed Energy. With the next move it was going to pull—diving straight to the ground—the Sorcerer had to prepare for the shockwave that would come with it. Just as those thoughts came to him, the motion was in process.
Nue heaved its wings outwards, anything looking upward from below would have their sight of the sun completely eclipsed. Once it had fully extended, Nue let out a small screech as it twisted its body downwards, before flapping and folding its wings once more with enormous effort; the move leaving a circular shockwave heaving behind it.
Sparks of static electricity gathered around its body, serving as an extra installment to make it move faster.
Megumi had only been able to make Nue emit electricity and fire them off, but with his current progress in training—he could enhance his Shikigami with it. The same applied to his own body when using Shadow Extension, so that was also an added boon.
The air crashed violently against Megumi's face, the pressure making his eyes squint and his hair blow back. It wasn't as nice of a feeling as letting his body flow freely in the wind with Nue's casual speed, but it at least gave a sense of excitement. Like riding down a roller coaster for the first time, Megumi felt butterflies forming in his stomach.
With the speed they were going out, an accidental crash landing would leave his body slightly battered, with the low amount of Cursed Energy reinforcement his body was undergoing at the moment. Conservation of his limited supply was at the most forefront of his mind.
"Let's get this over with..." Megumi watched the ground approaching even faster, before commanding Nue to off-set its course once more, "avoid hitting the ground."
The Shikigami complied, serving last second just as its body was about to impact the ground by flapping its wings once more. Brief arcs of electricity were sent out, a greater shockwave leaving an indentation in the ground before it came back up with halted speed, a whiplash overtaking both Nue and its master.
However, it wasn't much of a bother for them, before it started to slowly flap its wings, keeping itself afloat in the air.
Megumi nodded to the bird, giving a small compliment before hopping off. With a slight glance, Nue perched on the floor, before the Shikigami turned into black viscous liquid and dissipated. Taking his gaze off where it was at, the bird had been completely de-summoned. Right now, his sights were turned towards the city, with traditional structures looking nothing like a common urban city.
He couldn't even call it a suburban city either, considering there were zero skyscrapers aligning it. The distance too... it was very close to the sea, making even Megumi feel the salty atmosphere surrounding the area. There were many rig-like structures too, arches that hung over the sea for whatever reason.
Taking a step forward, he made his advance towards the city... or could it be called a town instead?
Megumi dispelled those thoughts, finding it useless to delve upon them any further. The soles of his waraji sandals crunching against the sediments under his feet while he continued to walk towards the city, a skeptical look plastered upon his face.
It was far different from Lungmen in every way, and the vibe it gave off was a strange one. While it didn't invoke any sort of danger, it was somewhat similar to when the Sorcerer would walk into an environment that held a high opacity of Cursed Energy.
An ill-omen perhaps? Megumi had always listened to them when he was on missions, seeing how they were usually his spiritual senses alerting him of danger. Right now, the black haired man didn't have much of an option but to approach the place... known as Primavera.
His head had turned upwards, glancing at a sign that had the name of the area displayed, something that sounded Spanish. Nodding to himself, Megumi had deduced that this place had belonged to a country known as Iberia, practically this world's version of Spain.
Maybe that was why the structures looked the way they did.
Sadly enough, Megumi hadn't studied much about the history of Iberia, considering the limited time spent in Lungmen's library. Speaking of Lungmen, the identification card he received from it should be somewhat eligible for him to enter the settlement he arrived at, even if they were going to ask him a few questions.
Better than nothing.
...Or he could just sneak in, yeah... that sounded much better. But Fushiguro Megumi was not stupid, he would only do that as a last resort. Such events that would call for such a thing would be if they rejected his entrance, something that didn't seem too much like an impossibility.
***
A Liberi man stared up from behind his newspaper, sitting behind a bar. His gruff and graying old beard being the most prominent feature of his, giving a sort of unfriendly expression. However those who personally knew him would say he wasn't much of a tough guy to be around.
Surveying the area, the tavern he ran had the same amount of people he had expected, not many folks in Primavera making their way out of their houses. Especially with all those church folks coming into the city and providing help.
It was a strange sight, seeing those robe garbed men preaching whatever they gobbled on about. What worried the old man the most was that they were talking about some stuff that related nothing to Laterano's faith—something adapted by Iberia.
He had heard that the Inquisition had been searching for people like them...? Unless the Liberi man was mistaken of course. Information lately had been one tough son of a bitch to gain, considering how ransacked this city was. Could it even be called a city in the state it was in?
Well, at the very least, it was in a liveable condition. Even if the sea salt was irritable to some folks who have just recently moved in (practically nobody, since this city wasn't an ideal living place), the residents have found it a natural day-to-day experience.
Taking out a rolled up sheet of tobacco from his pockets while setting down the newspaper, he took out a lighter and set it alight, letting the cheap aroma fill his nose and lungs. Heaving a breath, smoke traveled out solemnly from his mouth, letting his back fall back on the creaking wooden chair.
Some small chatter was heard around the tavern, a few traveling bounty hunters and mercenaries finding their way to Primavera—somehow. Most of them were probably settling here before going onwards to Sal Viento, or that was what the tavern owner knew most of them.
It was uncommon, but a lot of citizens usually headed to his tavern for a quick swig of alcohol. Once again though, visits have been even more rare considering the entrance and establishment of those church people... and the Penal Battalion, dear god the Penal Battalion. Those military men of Iberia sometimes frequented the area, looking for any discrepancies.
If the Liberi man knew the implications of what was happening, then he would rather stay completely clear of such things. Any church folk that walked into his bar was immediately kicked out, considering he didn't want any involvement with them, an involvement that would lead to the Penal Battalion searching his place.
That alone would cause many complications for his current life, and such ailments wasn't something the already jaded old man wanted to experience. Ah, the Golden Age, if only the rays of such a time still existed and shone down upon Iberia.
The music, the art, the vast wealth... all of it was rendered down from classical music players to goddamned scraping sounds in a rundown tavern. There wasn't anything extravagant either, as evident from Primavera's current state; rundown and graying buildings. Although there was still a large resemblance of color, it was dreary and monotone.
Wealth... did he need to say anything about wealth?
Sighing to himself while taking another puff of his cheap tobacco, the Liberi man flicked his little makeshift cigarette, tossing it into a trash bin nearby. There was no need to indulge himself on the object much further, considering how the effects usually flat-lined with the amount already burnt away.
The old man couldn't help but compare it to his life in Primavera, wondering what even kept him staying in this crappy city. Well, perhaps it was because he had no other place to go to, and living was more times than not better than kicking the bucket.
Creak
The door leading to the tavern creaked, making the Liberi turn his gaze with a raised eyebrow. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't even finished reading the newspaper. Damned thing was probably a month out of date too, considering how those things had lost any effort being put into circulation.
Cutting himself out of his thoughts, the old man saw a... rather young man walk in. Black spiky hair, expensive... Yanese? Higahinese? What was it again? Well, the man didn't care much about the specifics. But it was definitely a black and expensive robe belonging to those two countries. Sandals were his choice of footwear, along with white traditional socks that matched the attire.
A black sash was wrapped around his waist, keeping his white martial artist shirt and pants together. Overall, some sort of rich kid that probably practiced some martial art back in their comfy little residency back in Yan or Higashi—the Liberi wasn't too sure of the specifics. But if that were the case, what was somebody like this youngin' doing in Primavera of all places?
What was most peculiar, and what caught literally everybody's eyes within the tavern was the gleaming wheel that stood atop of his head. It looked to be some sort of steering object meant for ships, but different in its own way. The object was particularly shiny, and it held a kind of... expensive, golden, and divine eminence with it—despite nobody knowing what implications it brang
Was he a Laterano Sankta? Was that his halo? There were many questions that sprang up in the mind of the people viewing it, including the old Liberi. Usually, most Sankta halos that were made of light, and wings that accompanied them... the object placed above the black haired man's head was nothing like that.
So... an artifact? Or was it some application of Arts that kept the strange object floating above the man's head? Too many questions were springing up within everybody, and the old man didn't think an arrival such as this meant good news. Especially with the 'aura' he gave off, already proving of the capabilities he possessed.
Mercenaries always had an instinct towards them which alerted them to danger, and the Liberi man was seeing them all barely reach for concealed weapons. This was usually a sign that they felt like their lives were threatened, even if it were an implicit sense. But that enough was already enough to make the tavern owner wary of this new arrival.
His head turned upwards, hair slightly flowing at the movement. However, because of its texture and weird spikeiness that looked like it came out of a novel, it didn't shift much from his movements. Those eyes of the black haired man were neutral, looking slightly unnatural, but otherwise human. If anything, it looked like he was done with everything life had thrown at him, despite being of such tender age.
Their lips seemed to be placed in a perpetual thinning, a near frown that didn't hold much happiness within. A sort of stoic air radiated from him, along with the divinity coming from that wheel. If nobody knew any better, they were sure they'd assume him to be a Saint of Laterano, but then again—nobody had ever encountered a Saint before.
Much less the Pope himself.
For some reason, the black haired man was far too calm for being in such a run down and decrepit place such as this. The alcohol was subpar at best, and that wasn't including the food. On the topic of the food, the old man Liberi could say even for himself that they were like Iberian sewage fished up from the wastes and placed in on a stove. Maybe that was why he had completely ridden it from the menus, and stopped ordering any.
The supplies that came to this city were always the worst, and it was a gamble whether what they received was spoiled meat or not. Most of the time, such a thing could be told from how many flies were buzzing and flying around the food crates.
Goddamned Iberia.
But back to where the old man was at, he continued to gaze at the black haired man with a scrutinizing gaze. Despite the grand air he gave off, somebody such as him wouldn't make the Iberian Liberi budge in the slightest. Having to deal with the Penal Battalion and Inquisition—the latter far less than the former—made such experiences as frequent as a church folk walking into his tavern.
They were a short stare down, the same stoic and stone faced expression laced with youth met against the rough and harsh wrinkles of an old man's features. There was nothing but uncaringness in both of their eyes, as if they basically shared the same thought as each other.
Life was terrible.
"Hello," the black haired man opened his mouth, a small and respectful greeting.
Surprisingly, his Iberian pronunciation was top notch. If anybody had heard his words, they would assume the man was a citizen born in the city's walls and raised with their culture. However, it could have just been that a lot of practice was put into it; the fact that he was either Higashinese or Yanese made it all the more surprising.
"Good day, boy," the old Liberi replied back, throat slightly parched from smoking a tobacco roll, and having not drunk much water. It was honestly a gamble every time somebody went to drink from a well or access the water systems, whether they were polluted or not. "What business do you have here?"
The man, from what everybody assumed to be an Aegirian born in Higashi, seeing how the country was the place that held the most of them aside from Iberia.
"Fushiguro Megumi," the man now Fushiguro Megumi spoke to them. "I want to know more about this city," his voice was calm, as if everything he wished to say was calculated. "After all, I had just decided to move here, and I wouldn't mind a little help. I'll pay for any information you give."
"Oh?" The Liberi man grabbed his beard, giving it a slight stroke. "Well, I don't give a damn about being paid for information." He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his pot belly, "hard enough I ever get some customer in here. You look like some rich kid from the looks of it."
"Please, I'm far from being rich," Megumi replied to the man with an unamused tone. Or was that the sort of tone he had always spoken in? "...So will you provide information to me, or not?" The Sorcerer hadn't come here for no reason, especially with how all other parts of the city looked.
The old man harrumphed, taking one more look at the other party's attire. They were most definitely a rich kid, even if they denied it. Or were they just somebody who stole those clothes that they wore...? Then why would they have that weird wheel floating above their head like it was a crown upon a king's head?
"Whatever, kid," the old man shook his head, "want some alcohol to accompany you? I pay on the house if it's some new person I'm having a conversation with." Despite the gripes with his own life, the Liberi didn't mind talking, rambling, or getting drunk with some folk. Besides, the black haired man sounded polite enough.
"Just like that?" Megumi raised an eyebrow, "don't you need to make a living?"
"Making a living? Here?" The old man scoffed, standing up and walking to the back of the bar. One last thing he noticed from Megumi's direction was that the mercenaries and other residents of the tavern were already going back to their standard stuff—some gazes still lingered though. "Whole place is just a gamble with what you do next. Don't gotta worry about expending shit round' here!"
The old man's hand reached a bottle, swiftly pulling it out. The bottle screw looked to be haphazardly put on, with the liquid only filling up to about 25% of the entire bottle. Coloring of the liquid was a bit off, but it looked to be some sort of red diluted by the green glass that made up the bottle.
"I don't drink alcohol, sir," Megumi raised an eyebrow, before settling down on one of the seats at the bar. "From where I am, the legal drinking age is 21. Even then, I'm a terrible lightweight." Uncaring if he was laughed at, the black haired man revealed the latter part without much care. Considering how Gojo Satoru, the Strongest Sorcerer was also a lightweight, some confessions such as those hardly mattered.
"Tsch," the old Liberi let out some sort of noise, shaking their head disappointingly. "I guess it's nice that you're an honest kid, some people I know of your age try to be some badasses. Bunch of idiots I tell you." The man barehanded the screw, getting it out of the bottle with a popping sound.
The liquid in the bottle swayed from the movement, moving back and forth in a rhythmic motion that eventually died down.
Megumi watched him with a slightly raised eyebrow, not fully understanding his words—but getting enough of the implications to know. Overall, he had no comment for what the old man had just said, he looked to be as jaded as any senior citizen would be, and Megumi couldn't really blame him for that. In fact, from what he saw, this city was in such a bad state that an attitude like that was warranted.
"Hey kid, what's with that... halo? Wheel? Whatever it is on your head," the old Liberi went off to another section of the tavern bar to get a cup while speaking. "Never seen anything like it, and it's weird in all damn senses of the word," an articulate but foggy glass shot was found, making the old man nod to himself.
Megumi felt a few more gazes from the people at the main seats turn to him at those words. Wow... he was feeling slightly nostalgic to his first two day stay in this world, and visiting the Mercenary's Tavern. In this case, this tavern was just any ordinary tavern—even if it wasn't in the best shape.
The black haired man decided to respond, "Arts." That singular word was all he needed to say, and Megumi was sure nobody would bat an eye towards the explanation. Really, such a convenient excuse to have in this world, considering Arts could come in many different shapes, sizes, and variations.
"Arts, huh? Alright," the old man placed the cup on the bar table with a small thump. There was no light that shone on the object, so no reflections were apparent in it. Giving one last glance at the alien object stationed above Megumi's head, the Liberi started pouring the liquid of the bottle into his cup. "Well, guess the world is wide, huh?"
"...Sure," Megumi wondered where this conversation was getting at. He had come in here to ask for information, because frankly, everybody outside was sort of... strange? How should he put it? They looked like they were dangerous people. There were sometimes men who looked like they came from a military walking about, but most of all were cloaked people with cloth draped over their faces.
The ends of their coats or robes were also usually tattered, and they sometimes had accents of green upon their cloth. A pale complexion and wrinkly hands, they went around offering help to citizens, while those very few military men or women watched them from the sidelines. Megumi didn't acknowledge it much, it certainly was weird.
"So... what'd you come here again?" The old man scratched his beard after finishing pouring his alcohol. "Ah, right, information, eh?" He placed an arm over the table, before using his free hand to take a swig of his newly wed drink. "What do you want to know, then? Specific stuff? State of this damned city? Or whatever the Penal Battalion has been up to? Actually, scratch the Penal Battalion, I know jack shit about them."
"The cloaked people moving around," Megumi casually replied, waving his hand in the air. "Cloth draped over their face, going around and offering people help," the Sorcerer was able to conclude that those military people were part of this 'Penal Battalion,' but not those other people. So he decided to shoot and ask the question.
"The Church?" The old man replied with a raised brow, shaking their cup on their hands and watching the liquid move. "Don't know where they came from, but they arrived in this town one day. Were small at first, then they started converting Laterano's faith to... whatever they believe in," the Liberi shook his head. "They've multiplied like Cautus, I bet you eighty percent of Primavera believes in their faith now."
"That much?" Megumi wasn't somebody who was a professional in religion, but a population having such a high amount was... Maybe he was overthinking things. But certainly, this ominous feeling permeating the air as much as the moisture from the sea was disturbing.
"Best option they have," the old man commented. "Iberia's been a shithole recently, and anybody is looking for any getaway from their miserable situation. Lo' and behold a few believers going around helping people without asking for any repayment, and a way to wash away their sorrows by praying..." His grip tightened while speaking, "bah! In my opinion, they ought to do something about their situation rather than praying to nothing!"
Megumi noticed the mercenaries shifting in annoyance from behind him, probably used to this old man's antics? Or were they new faces to this town? Assumptions were flying across his mind to keep his situation the most in control as possible, but at most—chaos wasn't something that could be controlled. 'Let's just hope nothing like that happens.'
"Oh, er, Megumi, right?" The Liberi stopped his ramblings and creased his brows. "Stay away from those church folk, alright? Heard that children and people have been going missing within their sights." The man took a small sip of his alcohol, eyes glancing down at the black haired looking more interested. Setting the cup down after having his fill, he reached for the main alcohol bottle to refill it. "Stay away from the Penal Battalion's sight, too—they don't take kindly to tourists or foreigners like you."
"I'll keep that in mind," Megumi reached into his pocket, but was actually just mimicking that motion. "Here you go," with a swift movement, his arm moved in an arc before resting on the table, a small thump reverberating from his movement. "I don't know if it's enough, but it's for the information."
"Didn't I tell ya' you don't need to care for stuff like this?" The old bird creased his brows, face scrunching up in indignation. "Lungmen... dollar? So you are from Yan after all, huh? Well, too bad Iberia doesn't use these sorta currencies. Don't think their own currency is much either," the Liberi picked it up, looking at it with a cursory look.
"Whatever," Megumi placed his foot on the ground, exiting the pale wooden stool that withstood the test of time. "Just take it, if it's as useless as you say; then there's no need for me to keep it either." The black haired man stretched and craned his neck, before approaching the door that led him inside the tavern.
"This kid," the old man shook his head, watching the man's back getting farther. "Hey! Did anybody ever tell you that you got a girl's name?" The Liberi decided to call out one last thing to the black haired... Aegirian? Was he an Aegirian? Whatever, he just wanted to point that out to the resting face man.
Small bits of giggles and laughter were heard from the rambunctious mercenaries sitting at the tables, alcohol-filled cups slightly shifting with their movements. Over all, a different atmosphere overtook the damp and decaying old tavern filled with barely functioning lights.
The old man Liberi watched as the object of their joke halted in his steps, the wheel atop his head seemingly... twitching? A very faint glow emitted from the golden object, as if the movement was indicating and foretelling the fate of—
—It stopped twitching, Fushiguro Megumi not even sparing a look back at them, and leaving the tavern through the door. The sound of doors being slammed was heard, although not as loud as anybody would have expected. Clacking of wood against each other echoed across, amongst the laughter that died out in the environment.